Have you met the Saddest Turtle?
The one who always cries?
The one who's life is full of hurtles?
The one that hopes he'd die?

If you see the Saddest Turtle, tell him I said hello.
Tell him I'm sorry for his party to which i did not show.
The saddest Turtle has a friend, Jolly Octopus,
A loud Friend, one who contends himself as life's Magnum Opus

Oh what a friend destined to mend the Turtle's broken heart,
if only that is the octopus did in the Turtle's life take part.

So if you see the Saddest Turtle
Tell him I said I'm "Sorry",
Sorry for the misfortunes in life
That made him so chary.

All those messages
All those words
All that love
Wasn't real
It never was real
In fact,

They were never about you anyway

as i lie awake
i think about how stupid it is
that the only things that connect me to you
are inanimate

handheld devices can only bring me so far
i want to lie beside you and
touch the creases on your face
as you tell me about how you regret
taking up a habit of smoking

i want to fill your mouth with my breath
and wash away your intoxication
and the heaviness that comes with drinking

i want to put my fingers between yours
and fill you with kinder words
than you could ever find for yourself
and tell you that regret is an ocean
and it will swallow you
if you aren’t careful

.

.

.

but phones can only bring me so far
i find myself staring at a dress
i once wore
and how you said i had looked beautiful
even though you couldn’t see for yourself

and i find myself
reciting my day
like my voice could reach across the ocean
and pull you home

sometimes, i think it’s nostalgia
other times it might be regret

two years is
a pretty long time
and i long to be beside you
to make you feel loved
in case you can’t remember it yourself

but i will have to make do
with conversations at six in the morning
knowing that you will stay awake
throughout the night
and i will stare at the black screen pleading that
with every silent passing moment
your heart will still be beating

She sits at the dinner table
Flattened lips
Tightly-****** hands
Neutral face
She is disgusted
As she lifts the spoon to her mouth
Immediate remorse fills her body as the taste buds get the first feel of the warm food
She is disgusted
As she continues to eat, she can see the food  turning into fat traveling to her cheeks
and to her jaw and to her arms and to her shoulders and to her chest and to her stomach
covering the bones that she wants to pierce through her skin
She can see it travel to her thighs, largening in size, making them touch, covering the huge gap that she wants situated in the middle
She is disgusted
She gets paler and paler with every chew and every swallow
And so to escape this torture, she lies and tells her uncle and aunt that her stomach is upset
and she feels sick
But she wasn't lying
Because her stomach was truly upset because it did not want to be filled
It wanted to stay tiny
It wanted to stay beautiful
It wanted to be more beautiful
She goes straight to the bathroom and locks the door
Washes her hands before sticking ******* down her throat
Removes them once she feels the disgust rising through her esophagus
Closes her eyes as her upset stomach throws away everything unwanted
She is disgusted
She secures the lock in her bedroom
Thinking maybe it will keep the demons away
Or at least long enough for a second of sanity
But they are too gruesomely evil because the disgust that was once in her throat has now traveled to her wrists
She criticizes how her wrist bone isn't showing enough
Disgust travels to her chest
how her ribs aren't piercing enough
Disgust travels to her hips
how her hip bones aren't showing enough
Disgust travels to her thighs
how the space between isn't big enough
Disgust travels to her fingertips
Tension building up in her palms
The demons' silence turn into screams
She gives in
Picks up the knife
and writes an new poem on her body
I
am
*disgusted

I wait, excited for when I see you again.
touch your fingers
kiss your lips
hear your voice.

But you always wanted more.

Because instead of wanting to see me
you wanted to see how the dress you bought looked on my body,
instead of touching my fingers
you wanted to invade  the parts of my body i regarded sacred,
instead of kissing my lips
you wanted to devour my mouth
and dominate me to show how weak i am,
instead of hearing my voice
you wanted moans and cries of pleasure
screams for the world to hear that I belong to you.

I sit here on the bed.
After your rounds of happiness and my forced labor.
I ask you who was the girl that you were so clearly flirting with last night and you tell me  it was just harmless flirting
and I bite my tongue
because i wanted to scream at you
Is it harmless,
that when you canceled on our date because you said you were sick,
someone told me that they saw you at a club, that you were gripping that girl's waist
and grinding on her like you were her man?
Is it harmless,
that everyday you rub it in my face how immensely inexperienced and timid i am
compared to the other girls you've been with?
Is it harmless,
that you asked me if it's okay if you ***** other girls
and I was taken aback and it was clear that I didn't approve?
You said
"They don't really mean anything, I just need some variety."
I knew right there that even if I didn't allow you, you'd still do it.
And right now
I’m just confused more than ever as I ask you again
What exactly we are and you say
“We're exclusively dating.”
But most of the time it’s more like
exclusively *******
with each other
with other emotions
with our non-existent commitments.
Because after just a mere 5 minutes of you being with me
and I refuse to spread my legs for you,
you have the nerve to lie to my face and look me in the eye and say
"My love for you gets stronger everyday."
And I swoon, being the naive little girl that I am
I am hung up on your words and I say yes when you ask me if we're okay.
But I know that by okay you mean okay with being invaded.
And with every pound, with every ******
The word love is replaced by lust
so now the sentence is
"My lust for you gets stronger everyday
and my love for you decreases the same."

I am so tired and so worn down from the weight of all my insecurities and you come hobbling in with your own bag of insecurities and stick it inside of me which you only do when other girls don't want you to.

Well guess what
For the first time in my life,
I'm
gonna
say
no.

Your words lead to your soul,
They have guided me, heart in hand,
To the truth of who you are,
And with bated breath I read them.
For it is there,
That your essence flows through me,
And carries me straight to you

society said no;
      i let go.

I just want someone to write with.
No.
On.

I want someone who will stay up all night long, nothing but our souls and pens on display for the moonlight to catch off the small of his back, while the ink spills across our skin and forms itself into the lyrics to a song that doesn’t quite know how it goes. Not yet. I want a symphony of rhyme and reason and metaphors and anaphoras and allusions and oxymorons, I want poetry. In the form of a man.

This is a story about you.

Such a sad, silly girl who crawls out windows
So unhappy and such a lair
With her painted face to hide her withered features
She dreams of elsewhere
Far far elsewhere
Where her tainted past can't touch her
Run run
What sweet words
What sweet thoughts
Maybe she is just too afraid
She feels like she's cornered
She can't get out
What a sinking feeling
What a sinking existence
She thinks
But instead of running she lights a cigarette and goes to sleep
Praying it would **** her eventually